


In His Majesty's Service

by Tomslegsarekillingmeslowly



Category: British Actor RPF, Henry V - Shakespeare
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 13:12:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1942446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomslegsarekillingmeslowly/pseuds/Tomslegsarekillingmeslowly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry V and his maid spend a night together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In His Majesty's Service

You hurry about the King’s bedchamber, tending the fire and setting out a plate of cold food in case he is hungry when he returns to the castle. You hope to finish before he enters, as he makes you feel like a girl instead of a woman of 22 years. Whenever his piercing blue eyes fall upon yours, you avert them lest he see the hunger that you feel for him in them.  
You finish and head for the doors, thankful that you have done your assigned duty without encountering your beautiful King. Just as you are about to pull open the doors and return to your bedchamber, they are opened from the outside. The King strides through them, his long legs carrying him quickly over the threshold. You fall in a deep curtsey and keep your eyes downcast, “Good evening, sire,” you say,” May I be of any other service this evening?”  
“Yes, maid. Stay. I require your assistance this evening,” he says, removing his cloak. “I was thrown from my mount this eve and am going to need your help removing my garments.”  
You look up at him with a start. “Sire,” you say, “I’m not sure that I’m the appropriate person to assistance. Perhaps one of your men can…”  
He interrupts you,” I want not one of my men to help. They need not know that the King has injured himself being thrown from a silly horse. Besides, my injuries require the gentleness of a woman’s touch.” A smile lights up his face, making him look much younger than his 27 years.  
“As you require, your majesty,” you tell him, bowing your head slightly and resigning yourself that you would be stuck here assisting him for the foreseeable future. It would be an exercise in self restraint to keep the lust out of your eyes as you helped the King disrobe. Moving to the bench at the end of his bed, he says, “Please help me remove my boots,” and settles him again, wincing with his injuries. I’ve fallen on my shoulder and I’m not sure that I have the strength to unlace them just now.”  
“Yes, my liege,” you reply, kneeling in front of him. “May I?” You gesture toward his feet.  
“Please do as you see fit. You’ll have no quarrel from me. Do what you need to so that these clothes are removed from me.”  
“As you wish, sire,” you say, taking his left leg in your hands. You try to contain the joy that you feel. You have free reign to touch the king wherever you deem necessary to remove him of his garments. A thousand scenarios run through your head, all of them ending with you and the King tangled together on his bed.  
A blush reaches your cheeks and you run your hands up his leather boots to reach the laces at the top. Slowly untying them and loosening the laces, you slide the boot off and repeat the process on the other foot as well. Looking up from your kneeling position to see what you should remove next, you see that the king is watching you intently.  
“Please continue maid. You seem to be enjoying this as much as I am. Stopping now would do no service to either one of us,” he says.  
“Yes, your majesty,” you hear yourself saying. “If I could be so bold as to say, I’m enjoying it very much.” I’ve often thought about just this while alone in my chamber at night.” You drop your eyes unable to believe that you just spoke those words to the King of England.  
“Please do not feel ashamed of your feelings,” the King says lifting your chin with two of his long fingers. “I often find myself rushing back to my chambers in the evening with the hope that I may catch a glimpse of your loveliness which I can then take to my lonely bed to keep me company. Many a night I have gone to sleep with thought of exactly what your hair would look like spread out over my pillow.”  
Your breathe catches as you look into his eyes and see the same hunger which you know shines just as brightly in yours. You place your hand somewhat hesitantly on his chest.   
“My lord, may I continue as my king asked? There are many more layers that require my attention,” you say.  
The king raises an eyebrow at you, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “By all means, please continue with your assigned tasks.” He stands up from the bench and spreads his arms to give you better access to him. Rising to your feet, you stand before him. He is much taller than you and barely reach his chin. You bring your hands to his tunic and begin to unbutton it slowly. You feel as if you are unwrapping a gift and feel no need to rush it. Once the last button is undone, you move to one sleeve, pulling it gently to make it easier for him to get his arm out. Once he has removed his arm, you move to the other, easing the garment down his injured arm, careful not to jostle him.   
He stands before you in nothing but his undershirt and breeches. You reach to untuck his shirt and notice that the laces of his breeches are strained; his manhood pushes noticeably against them. You let your knuckles graze the laces as your pull the shirt free. The king gasps and closes his eyes. You raise the shirt, trying hard not to hurt his shoulder, but he grits his teeth in pain as your pull the garment over his head.   
Naked from the waist up, he is quite a sight to behold. Lean muscle covers his torso. A light mattering of hair on his chest and stomach cry out to be touched. Leaning toward him, you place a light kiss on his injured shoulder blade. “I’m sorry for hurting you, your majesty,” you say before running your tongue out over his shoulder. His hands come up and rest on your waist.   
“No matter,” he says, breathlessly, “it had to be done. Your kisses have healing qualities, perhaps?”  
“None that I know of, sire,” you say splaying your hands over his broad chest and place another kiss on his shoulder.  
“I beg to differ, maid,” he says, bending and taking your lips with his. Teasing your mouth with his tongue, he moves his hands into your hair and begins taking out the pins which secure it. His lips never leaving yours, he undoes the last pin and your hair falls to your waist. He wastes no time plunging his hands into it and pulling you closer to him.  
He licks into your mouth with a practiced tongue. You feel yourself dampening between the legs from his kisses alone. One of his hands leaves your hair and trails down your body before sliding under the swell of your bottom and pulling your body tight against his. Pressed against him so tightly, you can feel the entirety of his desire for you. You remember the task at hand and pull slightly away from him. You still have work to do.   
“Sir, I do believe I have a job to do and I’ll not be distracted from it by your kisses,” you say, bringing your hands to the laces of his breeches.  
“Your work is never done maid. By all means, please, continue. I wouldn’t want to end up on your master’s bad side,” he says with a wicked smile. “I hear he can be quite a rogue when he puts his mind to it.”  
“I’ve heard rumor of that as well,” you say with a smile as you untie the laces. Pulling one side f the breeches open, you loosen them before sliding them down his thighs. He wears nothing underneath them and his impressive manhood is on full display for you.   
You drop into a curtsey before him and say, “If it pleases your majesty, I’ll be returning to my chambers now as my task is complete.” You turn to walk away from him.  
He grabs your arm and twirls you back toward him, a look of surprise on his face. “It most certainly does not please your majesty,” he says looking you in the eyes.  
You can no longer contain yourself and a smile breaks out on your face. “A joke, your majesty,” you say. “I have no desire to return to my chamber this evening if you’ll have me.” You step closer to him, your eyes roving over his nakedness with a ferocity that you didn’t know you possessed.  
“I’m glad, maid, for I am now burdened with the same task as you were. I’m feeling quite alone in my nakedness and I wish for you to join me. I would also like the pleasure of unwrapping my gift with the same care and attention that you unwrapped yours,” he says closing the distance between your bodies and raising his hands to the ties of your dress.  
His hands toy with the ties, pulling them slowly apart. Once the ties are undone, he works one long finger between the laces and pulls gently, exposing the swell of your breasts to his hungry eyes. Bending down, he sets a kiss on each before kneeling before you and taking the hem of your dress in his hands. Lifting your dress with him, he slowly rises to his feet. You are as bare beneath your dress as he was under his breeches. As he pulls your dress over your head, you gasp as the cool air hits your feverish body. Soon you stand bare before him.  
“I didn’t have quite as much to unwrap as you did,” he says, taking a step back to look at you. “Surely a rare gift such as this should be wrapped in layer upon layer of the finest paper.”  
You look away blushing. Surely the king hasn’t forgotten that you are but his chambermaid, only standing in the position now because of the king’s own desire?  
“Sir, I am but a maid. My wrapping dictates my position.” You don’t meet his eyes, as you begin to think that you have made a mistake by playing your hand so boldly with the king.  
He tilts your head up to his and meets your eyes. “Tonight, we are but Harry and Sabrina. We have no stations in life but to be each other’s warm and comfort. I stand before you a man, bared to you. Please Sabrina, give yourself to me tonight.”  
Hearing the king call you by your name makes you weak. You nod your head and step fully into his arms. His mouth meets yours once again, as you wrap your arms around him. Your hands explore your back as his do the same to yours. You are lost in his kiss and barely notice that he has moved the two of your to his bedside. Laying you down among the furs, he lay next to you and begins exploring your body with his hands.   
Your breasts have never felt as wonderful as they do when he holds them in his hands and pulls each nipple into his mouth in turn. You arch your back, aching to be closer to him. His explorations continue down your body as you feel his tongue dip into your navel. His hands move down over your hips to your thighs, before spreading them and settling himself between them.  
Looking up at you from between your thighs, he says, “Lady, my lips and tongue thirst for a taste of your sweetness,” before lowering his head. His tongue makes slow circles around your bud as his fingers slip gently between your folds. A low moan escapes you as he enters you with one finger, then two. Feeling his mouth and hands on you and seeing his ginger curls between your legs pushes you toward sweet release.  
“My king!” you gasp, “I’m so close. Please do not stop.”  
The king’s mouth and fingers continue their delicious assault on your body. Feeling his beard rubbing your thighs is overwhelming combined with the thrusting of his fingers and the flicking of his tongue. Your body clenches and he undoes you. “Oh my king,” you stammer and bury your hands in those glorious curls, pulling him tight against your body. He drinks in your wetness like a man dying of thirst. Raising his head, he removes his fingers from your body.  
“You taste as divine as I thought you would, Sabrina,” he says, slowly moving to cover your body with his. “I am dying to get inside of you now that I know what heaven tastes like.”  
“Please your majesty. I need you inside of me.” You gasp as he places his manhood against your opening. He slowly slides inside of you until he fills you completely. The king begins moving inside of you, slowly, hitting that spot within you with each deliberate thrust. He appears in no hurry as he continues to slide in and out of your body with agonizing control. You feel as though you may lose your mind as he teases your body with his.  
“My lord, please. Faster. I need you faster,” you tell him, pulling his hips down to meet yours. You gasp as he hits your back wall and shudders within you.  
“My lady, I do not wish this magic to be over so quickly. Your eagerness will be my undoing,” he replies, but picks up the speed of his thrusts.  
“My king, you must be tiring from your injury. Please lie on your back and let me please you.”  
He pulls out of you and looks at you in surprise. “Please me?” he questions. You’ve pleased me quite a bit already tonight, my lady. How do you wish to please your king now?”  
You push him gently back onto the bed and tell him, “Let me show you.” Climbing on top of him, you straddle his muscular thighs. Placing his manhood at your entrance, you sink down onto him and rock your hips. Your bud hits his pelvic bone with each downward thrust and you know that it won’t be long before you find your release once again.  
His hands come up to find your breasts and roll your nipples between his long fingers as you continue to rock your hips against his. His hands move to your hips and he grips you tightly and clenches his jaw. A groan escapes him and he pulls you tighter against him. With a moan, his hips surge upward and you feel him release inside of you. Hearing him like this sets you off and you fall, careening over the edge that you had been teetering on.  
You collapse against his body and he wraps his arms around you and kisses your forehead.   
“My lady,” he says, “I’m afraid that was over much too quickly.”  
“No mind, sire,” you reply, “There are many hours until daybreak.”


End file.
